Unto Chaos
by Storyteller Balthanax
Summary: A Mage from another world entirely finds himself stranded in a world where everything he knows is turned useless. What's more, a grave evil approaches in the distance, which could spend the end for all of Mekkan if left undefeated- join the Mage and his Allies as he strides furthermore, Unto Chaos. (I know, I suck at Descriptions- But, I'll be updating this as I go!)
1. Probable Chaos

Chapter 1; Probable Chaos

Author's Note **(IMPORTANT TO FUTURE UPDATES)** \- I -MIGHT- add in some mature content in terms of swearing, nudity, gore, etc- all descriptions that can be skipped over, something I'll try to keep short unless it's important to a situation. Make of it what you will- It won't be for everyone, so it'll be at a T-Rating so that I can prevent such potential from being wasted- heck, I'll put up warnings in AK's before the chapter begins so that you can skip over it, if desired- but, hey, that's what I aim to do here- to make the brush of my virtual quill so enrapturing that you can scarcely look away.  
SECONDLY- I also am using my Worgen Mage from World of Warcraft. Prod me in one way or another and I'll throw up a prequel series going over his story- maybe a continuation of what's currently happening with him, and boom, you'll know besides the brief flashbacks or explanations given in the story. And for those that don't know- A Worgen is a controlled werewolf, and a mage is just a wizard. Google can help you out image-wise. Anyways, that's all I have to say-  
Unto the End we Stride!

* * *

Balfaraz groaned, throat dry and rasped as he slowly opened his eyes. Everything seemed to hurt- he felt drained and exhausted, vision filled with blinking sunspots caused by the direct beam of light angled at his face. Grass gently tickled at his side and back, a fresh wind caressing his hair and shortened beard in a waving fashion that might have been soothing, had he been in this field of his own will.

The mage had formerly been in a sad, quiet desert, fighting a corrupted mirror- he had ended it by fusing it, but- this wasn't anywhere near.

Of course! He must have just slipped through a portal that had caused due to the disturbance of it all. He just needed to figure out where he was so that he could get back to Hearthglen. Pushing himself upwards with a renewed vigor, his back popped as he momentarily stretched, surveyed the rolling hills, and stuck to his gut by following a road path-

Or he would have, if the red blur hadn't immediately tackled him from a bush. The Human Mage went tumbling under the creature- something humanoid, yet resembling a fox's features, fur and fangs bared while claws grabbed at his shoulders. As the creature then made to press it's snarling maw against his throat, he turtle-necked, causing it to just clamp on his chin, puncturing flesh and bone. Refuting the pain, he felt what little mana he had tingle at his fingertips before a light violet color filled his palms, illuminating the creature's stomach and giving way to two mounds under the fur, placed above it's chest- breasts.

Once more pressing ignorance into his will, he slammed the glowing hand against the assaulting creature's stomach- and a shockwave ricocheted outwards from it, sending them flying off of the mage and tumbling into a heap. He stood in a huff, trying to determine if he had been dealt serious damage around his facial areas before facing the fox-creature once more.

"Off, Keidran Lands, Human," the creature spoke in broken common.  
"Keidran?"  
"Keidran. Go. Off."  
"I kinda woke up here, though."  
"Keidran. Off." It grunted.  
"...where's the nearest human settlement?"  
It pointed in the direction of the slowly-setting sun- good enough for him, the tips of buildings visible over the hill in the cast of approaching afternoon.  
Raising his hands in surrender, he turned on his heel and began marching towards the town.  
"Thanks!"  
"KEIDRAN!"

What's a Keidran?

* * *

Balfaraz continued on his way as per a normal traveler, eventually reaching the settlement- consisting of four main buildings besides the small residences that hung around the outskirts. There was an inn for travelers, the windows yellow with candlelight from within- a blacksmith's hut, plumes still rising upwards from the various chimneys, indicating recent business- a simple merchant's stand, for trading and vendoring various items- and, lastly, a town hall, operating also- from the size of it, as a guess- as a garrison for the Guardsmen.

All in all, it didn't look to be a bad set-up- his robes had lost their enchantments and had shredded in his presumed appearance, so he could use the new garb- and a room was also a definite must-have, due to the darkening sky, cloaked in a veil of stars that were slowly peeking through the violet of the dark afternoon. Balfaraz was more than willing to make his way forward- exhaustion was knawing at his muscles and hunger at his stomach.

The mage wandered forth into the inn, bustling past a swinging door and looking about momentarily before approaching a portly woman seated behind the main barhead, at the left-front of the inn.

"Welcome to The Troubadour Inn, how can I help you?" Her eyes sparkled in fixation as he approached, momentarily glancing over the mage's ragged clothing.  
"Got a spare room up?"  
"Only a double-bedder, lad, you still want it?" "Eh, sure, gives me a place to put a few things, right?" She skeptically nodded after a moment, extending her hand.  
"Three silvers." Relievedly, he grabbed a handfull of the currency required and set them on the countertop- at least they used a similar currency structure, right?  
She nodded. "Up the Stairs and on the end, lad- and, ye want a bath key to throw in with that? It'll be on me, uh- no offense, but yer kinda'..."  
"Gilneans are as Gilneans do, aye, I'll take the bath key."  
"Giln- bah, nevermind- 2 Silvers, Lad."  
Cha-ching, rung and done. Exiting the inn with a nod, he then made his way to the merchant's place-

A thin, wiry man stood with a grin, rubbing his hands as the torn mage entered. "Ah, yes, a customer, aha! You have coin, I presume!"  
Balfaraz nodded. "May not look it."  
"Indeed! I suppose that would be the reason you have arrived, yes, to take yourself home one of my many fine garbs?"  
"Ah, I'll take something. Got anything enchanted?"  
The vendor slowly shook his head. "I'm afraid not, sir- but if you're looking for something resistant, might I offer this set of Reinforced Leather Pads?"

The armor in question was a simple tunic and a set of trousers, visible pads and studs bolted into the material- the tunic, on inspection, had a hood sewn into the back of it. The boots were oddly advanced, stiff and rigid, protective- a decent gear, all things considered. "How much for this set, aye?"  
"Ah, a fine choice! The cost will be two gold, if you can muster the coin- but, ah, seeing as you've been gracious as a customer, I'll take a golden coin and a handful of silvers should y-"  
But the Mage already had the two golden doubloons out, setting them down on the counter. "Keep the regular price, and do a better job of making some deals, too- your place is falling apart a little bit, and could use some repairs when you can get them."

Surprised, the vendor nodded. "Ah, er- yes, thank you for the kindness." "Got a dressing room somewhere?" "Allow me to set up the curtains, ah, yes-"

And the mage then tried on the set of clothes, content that it fit to his standards, and ditched his old shredded robes.

Deciding that this was enough for a day's travels and negotiations, he returned to the inn, bathing and taking his rest.

* * *

Something felt off in the morning as he woke with a shaking rumble assaulting his stomach. Time for breakfast- work past the feeling, Balfaraz, you've been doing it since you were a kid...

And upon making his way downstairs, he found himself greeted with a few tables gifted with patrons- but what caught his eye was a familiar figure from earlier.

The fox-creature, the 'Keidran', was standing dismissively, a chained collar around her throat extending to an oaf of a patron, eating messily of a honeyed loaf of bread. The manner he ate with was disgusting- and it was clear the Keidran didn't enjoy it either, leaning quietly against it's bonds and doubling it's efforts upon seeing the mage.

"Shee shomthin' ya like," the fat jailor interrupted. Snapping back to reality, he found the engorged ghoul leering at him before motioning back to the Keidran. "Aye, feisty fucker she was, savage I had to beat the shit out of before she'd stop fightin'." He laughed, the fox's ears remaining slick against it's head. Balfaraz pondered for a moment-

"Actually, yes. Is she for sale?" "Like hell she is," he laughed. "Nah, I'll make a quick buck with this one- voluptous, nice n' curvy, all the type those rich pricks aim for." He ran a hand up and down her stomach, groping at her form-

"Disgusting pig," Balfaraz muttered. "At least allow the thing some semblance of decency."  
"There ain't nothin' DECENT about these FUCKERSH. Savages that dwell in caves and hump fer fifteen years before keeling over dead, good fer slaves n' pets, n' 'ats all!" The gluttonous man stood, pointing a thick finger at the mage. "You want to respect her so, see wot she does, eh?"

"I have a better idea," the mage stated with a grin- something boiled in his bones, something he enjoyed-  
"Wuzzat-"

But a great popping sound rang out through the inn, and a great, furred man with the features of a wolf leapt from the spot Balfaraz once stood, leaping for the fat man.


	2. The Long Road

AN - So, second chapter, here we go-

I'll try to have it at a 'one chapter a week' thing, maybe doing uploads every Thursday/Friday? Keep it consistent like that, give you who are following a(nother) reason to look forwards to the end of the week, right? I'll try, anyways, but if I upload late I'll try to get myself back on schedule. Stay tuned to his adventures, anyways- and until we meet each other, remember- UNTO CHAOS WE STRIDE!

Also, yes, he's a worgen. For those of you who don't remember- worgen, controlled werewolf, I'd go to google ('WoW Worgen') to get an idea.

Anyways, I'll quit with my shpeal. Essentially- stuff'll happen. Big stuff, good stuff. Stuff to look forward to. See you then, laddies!

Chapter 2; The Long Road

Balfaraz could feel it all happening, faster than could be processed by an eye- in mere moments, he could feel his form elongating, muscles stretching and doubling in size as bones popped into alien structures. Nails grew into claws, nose and mouth elongated into a lupine maw filled with razors that grew from his teeth. Fur blossomed from his form in swaying ribbons of grey, and his eyes turned into a primordial blue.

He set upon the fat man in an explosion of rage, claws cleaving through his vest as the worgen grabbed his shirt and threw him across the inn. Patrons jumped and shouted in response to the feral outburst- even the Keidran seemed taken aback, even if for only a moment. The pudgy slaver stood wide-eyed, looking down at his clothes.

"YA' BLOODEH PRICK! FIRST YA' TURN INTO A DAMN...SUPER-KEIDRAN, THEN YA' FUCKIN' MAKE A RAGDOLLA' ME?! I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT-FOR!"

Balfaraz smirked, thankful for the durability of the armor and the refusal of it to break under the pressure of his expanded form. He spoke in a deeper, slightly more gravelly voice, as opposed to his human one-

"Let goa' the..." he motioned to the Fox. "Thing- and ye' get off scot-free. Otherwise, I get to see if my claws are still sharp enough."

"LIKE HEEEELLLL!" Once more into the fray of a fight, the fat man strode forward in a vigorous fashion one might have called charging- but for Balfaraz, in this form, his agility and strength were expanded, and with it his speed- everything felt slightly slower, gave him more time to react-

And so he lifted an exposed palm as a pulse of cyan energy flushed forward into an orb-shape, colliding with the bulbous prick's stomach and knocking him unconcious.

Balfaraz turned to the Keidran, allowing his form to shift backwards- and feeling not only the loss of a form- but the backlash of such a spell with such a flare to it. The reminder that he needed to conserve mana returned to his foreground of requirements.

Lifting his hand momentarily, he felt nothing come to him- and frowned as a realization struck him.

This was no longer his home of Azeroth- it would be soaked in Arcane Magicks, able to be called upon and replenished within any moment of time or day. It was something that was a very part of the world, that the plants and people lived in and breathed in, practically- magic was everywhere, no matter what, whether it was lingering beneath the ground in a Ley Line (think of an underground current of water, only mana), or in the life-based composistion of a living creature. Thankfully, the mage was smart enough to call forth magic on his own, after studying it for so long- as long as he ate and drank well, he would retain all of the magic he might require.

Snapping out of his small, mental world, the mage neared the Keidran as he momentarily inspected the shackle around it's neck. The Fox, all the while, was just watching him- something akin to hair, tinted to an earthy brown-red, adorned her head and fell to her shoulders, something he did not pick up before. She spoke in a broken volley of grunts and noises as he worked what he could to remove the shackle.

It popped open with a snap, tinkling to the ground in a noisy clatter as the Foxtress rubbed her neck in relief. With a bow, he smiled before turning to leave.

Balfaraz exited the inn with haste, the distant sounds of yelling and the telltale sound of hooves upon gravel echoing forth from the path to the left- and so he took his leave, dashing off to the right.

* * *

The Mage knew not how long he traveled, just that it eventually turned from day to afternoon, and from afternoon to a darkening night. Eventually, indeed, he had decided to make himself a small camp to rest, making a small fire and turning what was left of his cloak into a pillow.

He found himself staring at the skies, unwarranted thoughts bursting forth from the recesses of his mind now that he had a moment to himself. The night was alight with dancing stars that twinkled and struck themselves across the great sky in beautiful patterns. He stared up at the singular moon, momentarily offput by the image- but it all seemed to hit him at once, after that realization.

Once more, he found himself alone in a world with no place for him. The mage gave a bitter smile, turning on his side to the fire. Isolation was no stranger- he had just been bitter about it.

Memories passed before the mage's eyes- meeting a man in a simple farmer's garb, speaking of a new order to join and save.

The meeting of that ranger who had changed everything, subjected them to joining another guild entirely.

His best friend becoming Guild Leader- and suddenly becoming invested in so many more manners that he rarely saw her.

And the sacrifice he made in order to save that small group of people from falling to -his- subjected torment.

Balfaraz stared at the fire harshly.

Choosing to further embrace ignorance, he deprived himself of thoughts and shut everything away, shut everything off-  
What was that?  
Something tickled at the edge of his senses, like something was-  
A twirling magical orb filled his palm as he extended it towards the Fox Keidran that he had previously encountered. She jumped momentarily, staring at him and freezing as an animal often does when caught under pressure.

It took a few tense moments before the mage lowered his hand, motioning to the fire and laying back down to rest. The Keidran laid opposite his side of the fire, staring at him with a tilted head and cocked ears. Once more, something in the back of his head began to go with that same ticking curiousity.  
"What's a Keidran?"  
"Me. Me, kind. Many Keidran."  
"You don't know much common, do you?" "No."  
Balfaraz shrugged. "How did you get captured?"  
"You leave. Man come later, during fall of sun. Use swords and Crossbows, chase me away from me home. Duty paid to home, lead away, kept safe."  
"You're a tribal people, I'm assuming." "Yeh." She grunted, slightly unladylike as she stood and circled the camp, sitting beside the human mage.  
"You turn into Keidran. How you not know?"  
"I'm not of this world. Somewhere far off, somewhere I don't know where I can get to. Technically, it's a curse- but it's been tempered down to a point where it's practically nothing. However, being thrown through whatever rift brought me here seems to have loosened my control over the Worgen Form."  
"No, no. Wolf Keidran." "Worgen, Keidran, whatever your tongue refers to them as." She huffed, muscular form taking on a sheen behind the surprisingly well-groomed fur that shone against the dimming firelight.

Balfaraz caught himself looking and casually returned his gaze upwards. He wasn't exactly interested- the Keidran was an alien to him, no different to a Draenei- or, in short, a blue goat-man or woman- or an orc, technically. A similar figure of feminimity, but that was about it- her culture seemed rather fond of remaining nude, as they had the correct things to ensure concealment.

"Slavers. Your kind becomes slaves?"  
She nodded. "Yes. Many uses for slaves. We live short compared to humans, the ferals are trapped and put under spell of collar, used by Humans to do...things, all things." "Lusty and Laborous, then." She nodded, brief confusion crossing the fox's features.

"Well. We've both had a long day. Been on the run. Time to get some rest, yeah?" Slowly, she nodded before he gestured, a light wind uprising and extinguishing the burning fireplace in a mere instant. Making do with his cloak-rolled pillow, he closed his eyes to get what rest he could.

Before he succumbed to sleep, he could of sworn he felt a rustle of movement and a growing warmth...

* * *

The mage awoke to a fluffy tail curled around his leg, and a strange, feral woman hugging onto him while laying on top of him. Making the assumption that it was something instinctual clinging to the back of her mind, he tapped her back. "Morning time. Time to get up."

" _Kif lav uir..."_ The Keidran muttered in another tongue- her tongue, then. It sounded vaguely elvish, but with a heavily dwarvish-ridden accent. It was either 'Five more minutes' or 'Pie store's danishes', and given the situation, he was taking the first translation.

And so the mage just awkwardly lay there as the Fox-Woman snoozed. Again, once more ticking rang in his head.

 _Grab her. She's waiting for you.  
Just look at the girl. Pressing against you.  
You're both practically just animals at your core, why hold back?_

A jasmine scent tingled his nose momentarily- heavenly, almost, entrancing. Slowly, he looked down at the lass to see that she was- more or less- grinding his right leg.

 _It must be the time of year to mate.  
We both know different species can't breed.  
Just have your way with her. She'll probably be thankful._

Once more, the mage frowned- he had less control over the worgen than he thought, if these things were crossing his mind. He was- nor had he either been, at heart- particularly lustful or desiring of sexual or romantic company- books and studies took primary hold, always. But now that there was one, here- at heart, the mage was just a bookworm who had learned to control magic through experiences, trauma, and books. And so the fact that he was suddenly thinking of these things-

It felt exhilirating, in a sick way. He wasn't compressed to a book, feeling what the protagonist might be. It was exciting.

His thoughts were interrupted as she looked up at him- dark, scarlet (?) eyes gazing up at the mage with a blink.

"Morning," she grunted before pushing off of the mage.

Logical side taking possession, he stood and dusted off his leathers. Turning towards the path after stretching and re-applying his cloak, he turned to the fox and offered her a hand.

"If we're going to survive here, I believe we'll need to stick together. I'll help you return to your village, yes?"

She blinked for a moment before nodding. "Yes. Many thank." He could have sworn he saw the barest hint of a smile.

Turning to the long road ahead, he began arguing with himself- really? See her back to her village? Balfaraz, you could barely handle yourself around one of these foreigners, what are you going to do in a whole colony of them?

He'd have to learn control, he decided, turning backwards with a grim determination to look at her once. "You ready?"  
She nodded, and he flashed a smile. "Let's hit the road, then."


	3. Twin Masks

AN - Yeah, trying to keep to the Schedule, we'll see how it works out- for now, though, I've got work and people- the stupids, of course- to attend to, so please do be accepting if it turns out that I absolutely fuck everything up via the schedule.

I took a while to brainstorm some ideas- and I've got an idea of where I want to take the story next. We'll see how it all plays out, though- the best part of a story is writing to follow where your heart guides the pen, right? That's how I've always seen it, so I'll give it my all these next few days.

Unto the End!

Chapter 3 ; An Outlander's Twin Masks

Jorach jolted awake from his nap to the sound of clanking footsteps coming from the road, a man clad in violet armor with sparkling yellow gems socketed into place approaching. Dusting off his templar's tabard to look presentable, he placed on the helmet and approached the man.

"Halt, in the name of the Templars! Those who wish to pass into Halfisbrooke must pay the toll of five gold!"

The man stopped eventually, at about a yard away from the man. The air smelled foul- his violet armor looked of skulls, and the yellow gems seemed to glow with a dull light. He removed the violet helm to reveal his face- that of a man with a thick, long black ponytail, bound behind him in seperate curls and waves. His eyes were amber, bordering on a deep crimson- and he flashed a smile, all too white and pearly.

"Templars, you say? Members of the Argent Dawn? Silver Hand? Argent Crusade? Or are you of the Alliance?"

"Pay the toll or turn back," Jorach repeated stubbornly, resting a hand to the sword strapped to his belt- and more importantly, the socketed mana-crystal within the hilt.

But the man didn't seem to care, looking upwards at the sky. "This is not Azeroth, is it?"

Was this man mad? "This is, always has been and always will be, Mekkan. Now pay the toll- I grow tired of warning you-"

But he was interrupted by the dark knight's cold, sudden glare. He approached, that same rhythmic clanking echoing across the small gate's borders with an ushered resonance.

"...I grow tired of playing games. I grow tired of proving my worth to mortals that continue to disown me as a human, and instead treat me as a monster..."

He grinned- an unsightly scene, before-

His jaw seemed to expand, way down to his collarbone- his white teeth turned into a pair of razored needles, practically, flickering fro and to at his expanded maw. His eyes turned -truly- crimson as the unearthly stench multiplied tenfold- Jorach could swear that he could feel the earth dying around him, and he wanted to run, scream and hide-

but he found he could not do so, as long as the man- no, no, this THING- stared into his eyes. Urine slowly trickled down his left pantaloon leg under his armor, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead.

"..." The man lifted his left hand, poised like he was going to make a horizontal chop- and he watched as the creature's armor changed in a horrific process, bone-like substance replacing the armor that clad the man, scarlet fluids clutching around his limb and reforming it.

"A treat, for me?" He lifted his unshifted hand- and the mana crystal dissapated from the man's sword, flowing into his skin via an azure mist. He breathed a single sigh of relief, row of needles flicking back and forth.

"Sleep, now." He made a chop with his mutated arm blade, and Jorach saw no more.

Balfaraz and the Keidran, who had named herself as Saljah (he stuck to 'Sal'), had continued on the road- they had learned a great deal of each other.

Saljah was Keidran Guardian, one of the few female guardians due to her excessive bulk in muscle mass (though he suspected that wasn't the only bulk she was bestowed, due to...other aspects,) and ferocity in the 'proving pit', a sort of proving grounds to determine where a clan, or pack, or tribe- he wasn't sure of the term- member, would fit in to the tribe best, based on preformance and fighting style. According to her, it took merely a few moments to analyze the fighting style and utilize the other's lack of speed against him. After such, she spent two years protecting her home before she encountered Balfaraz, a stranger lost on the roads, and this hubbub had began.

Balfaraz, on the other hand, was from an entirely different world- one where the earth itself was infused with magic, where all innate beings had the ability to tap into it if learned correctly, as well as to generate it- in a slow process- for themselves, if so chosen. He spoke of a guild he had joined after his nation fell, leaving him alone. He joined these people and fought tooth and nail against a foe he only identified as 'Balthanax', a creature that took the guise of the man but was far, far more evil. He had arrived after a last-ditch effort in a spell that would have, supposedly, decimated them both with an explosion of energy- but instead, had sent him here. Balfaraz was unsure if Balthanax had suffered the same fate, here or another realm, or had simply died in the explosion as originally intended (but you, as the reader, know better).

They spent their time, communicating- he learned what he can of this new people, these 'Keidran', while she was equally as curious to investigate this variant of a human that took the form of a wolf at will. They both had a great deal to learn from each other.

And soon, they eventually reached a town- Saljah was less than eager to approach it, but Balfaraz insisted upon it, due to the need for supplies. He was thankful that his currency still worked- simple coins of copper, silver and gold, but they worked, nonetheless- and he was eager to sleep in a real bed, instead of the bare ground and the remnants of his cloak. Begrudgingly, she agreed.

As they approached the gates, a man in chainmail armor and a tabard with a red cross marked over the main torso approached. "Halt! If you seek entry to Paleshire, you must -first- pay a toll of a golden coin per person."

Balfaraz dug around in his wallet- he was packing a good amount, 25 to 30 or so golden coins and a wealth of silvers and coppers. Fishing out the twin golden coins, he offered them to the templar, allowing him to inspect them for a moment before he turned back.

Just when he thought he was out of the clear, the man said- "Why doesn't your Keidran have a collar of domination?"

They both froze, blinking for a moment. Balfaraz turned around, thinking on the fly. "She, uh. She broke it, during my...initial capture. She's docile enough now, but I don't have one on me at the moment. S'pose I should've tagged along a spare, eh?"

The templar shrugged. "If that's the case, borrow one of mine." Shit.

Balfaraz shook his head. "Hey, hey, that's okay, I can just get one-" "City regulations, no Keidran without a collar allowed." Double shit.

"One moment..." He turned around, taking the Keidran with him. "To get in, you're going to need to wear one of those collars that inhibit thought and will."

"We need the supplies. I'll get you a cloak and a room at an inn to conceal yourself, and we'll be good, but just suffer through it at least once? We'll get what we need and soldier off before they call for breakfast tomorrow morning, I can promise that, and we'll be on your way to your clan."

Sal frowned deeply for a moment before nodding. "Alright."

As he turned back to the Templar, the man perked. "Aye. So you'll take the collar?" "Don't have a choice." The guardsman laughed. "Sadly, no. Also, if you're lookin' for a place to stay once you get inside, find 'The Bee's Barb'. Good ol' inn it is, they'll fix you up, just tell 'em that Polir sent ya', you seem like a good enough chap." Balfaraz nodded appreciatively, fastening the collar around Saljah's neck with a snap. The rune indented at the centerpiece began to glow faintly, and her eyes seemed to glaze over almost immediately as she looked at the human.

"Oh, and before you step away- you 'aven't heard of any 'Wolf Men' or anything, 'ave you? Rumor's going around that there's somethin' out and around that takes both the form of a human and a beefed-up wolf keidran, tearin' people apart in the midst of night or early mornings."  
So rumor spread fast, evidently. "Nah, but I'll keep an eye out. Keep safe, Polir." "Travel well."

* * *

The inn was cozy and warm as the mage entered on the early edges of nightfall, a rather rotund barmaid looking upwards with a jolly smile. "Ah! 'vening there, sir! Welcahm to th' Bee's Barb, what can I do ya' for?" She waddled over in a quick motion, jubilent and perky.

"I'm going to need a room for the night, preferably one with double beds," the mage replied with an earnest(appearing) smile, motioning to the Keidran. The barmaid looked at him quizzically. "Treat 'er too soft and she might spoil over, sir, even with a collar on. I can gi' ya' one with the two varying beds, or maybe one with a couch for her, but the double beds we've got here are all sold out, too."

Balfaraz shrugged. "One with a couch, then." Glancing back at Saljah, he could see the momentary flickering and quivering of her lips as her will strained against the magical forces binding her, and some part of him twinged in regret before he looked back at the barmaid.

Pausing for a moment, she then spoke with a sly grin. "...would ya' like me to send up summa' the ol' 'Frenzy Potion', as we here call it?"

Again, he looked back at Saljah for a moment, her defeated gaze boring at him. "...uh. Sure. I think. Yeah."

She clapped her hands, spinning on her heels. "Alrighty! Lemme get you your key- second floor, second one on the left, here it is- and, is there anythin' else I can get ya'?"

"You serve dinner here?"

* * *

Saljah continued to maintain her ignorance, like a stubborn cat, her back always in his vision. Clearly, the mage and her were not currently on the best terms, even if they seemed to be stuck together in a city full of human slavers. They were both eating their dinners- his, a steak, medium-rare and salted slightly, and hers, a salmon- he didn't see what edits she made to the fish before tearing into it, though he suspected none from the rate she was eating them all at between her claws and fangs.

Balfaraz set his aside as she continued to pout, grabbing her empty dish from not a few moments ago and setting them in a neat stack. "Take the bed, most I can do right now to make up for the manner you were treated earlier."  
"Hmph." She stood and made it over to the bed as he wandered over to the couch, flopping over and dragging curtains from the filtered windows to utilize as blankets, before a knock on the door interrupted him. "Room service, the Frenzy potion is here!"

He opened the door and saw a Keidran, grey fur spotted like a Leopard and dressed in an apron holding a tray with two small glasses, filled with a substance that looked like milk. The Keidran herself had a collar on, and the same look- but spoke and bowed to him after he took the tray.

"Thanks," he replied to her. She twitched before bowing again. "It is I who should b-" "Nah, you don't have to make up for it, just...go downstairs and get back to work. Hope things can get better for you," he spoke.

Twitching oddly, she hastily turned back and made her way down the stairs as he closed the door, setting the liquid down. Saljah immediately took interest, looking over her shoulder to inspect the glass. "...it smells good," she muttered.

"They said it was for Keidrans, figured it was something else that could help, so go ahead and take it."

She grabbed the first glass and sipped it- let out a contented chuff- and began guzzling it. Before long, the glass was drained and she sat back on the bed immediately, falling asleep.

"...frenzy. More like sleeping." Balfaraz shrugged, stretching out on the couch. "That's bedtime, I suppose."  
Directing a finger towards the burning candle on the main table, a gust of frigid wind assaulted the flame- and the light went out.

* * *

Balfaraz awoke in the darkness to a sudden pressure on his lap, beyond the blanket. He tiredly dismissed it- but opened an eye when a raking claw dragged the makeshift blanket down.

Saljah, upon casting a brief luminescence spell, was revealed to be the culprit. She was grinding against his crotch relentless, grinning. He didn't particularly enjoy the feeling of juices that were dripping from her loins, either, frowning as he felt his body's natural response.

"Saljah." "...want you. Now, Balfaraz. Want." "Saljah." "...waant..." She dragged her course tongue alongside the side of his face, prompting her to push her away in disgust. "Get off of me." "...Balfaraz. The potion, it feels so...good."

Oh. 'Frenzy' Potion.  
...dammit.

Balfaraz, remaining neutral, pushed her off of him- but she responded with surprising physical strength, holding him down as she held the other glass.

"Have some..." she forced his jaw open, and the liquid down his gullet.

...

...

...

"GAAAAH!" Pain shot through him as he bucked and writhed, hands removing themselves from the Keidran and grabbing at his head. He screamed in torment, the Keidran taken aback by the Mage's reaction as his form writhed and changed.

Fur sprouted from him in slow motion, bones re-arranged themselves, pain wracking his every movement as his transformation was forced. He could feel the buckles snap under the pressure of his expanding form, tightening him to the boundaries against his leather clothing that refused to snap somehow. His face elongated into a lupine frame, ears shifting upwards from his skull.

Finally, it stopped, Sal just watching him breathe and huff in pain.

A knock on the door sounded. "You alright in there?"

Balfaraz looked at the door for a moment. "...yeah, just...tripped."

"Ah, aighty, take care over there. Also, hope the potion did ya'good!"

Growling, Balfaraz turned to the semi-terrified looking Saljah, his face fixed in a snarl. "...Saljah. No. Go to sleep." "..." He bared the rows of razor teeth, hackles raisng alongside his neck. Hastily, she scurried under the covers- allowing the worgen to fall onto the couch, exhausted and disgruntled before allowing the crushing waves of sleep to claim him.

* * *

The Mask watched, curiousity peaked- he was neither man nor Keidran, but a mixture- and what's more, he could feel the strong magical threads this one carried with him.

Threads that connected to a land beyond the skies, to another realm entirely. He was clearly not of this world, that much was evident- he barely resembled a wolf keidran during his transformation's active period, more of a hulk than anything, but retained most control of it.  
Peculiar, Neutral thought to himself- peculiar indeed.  
Perhaps a means to find a balance in this world.


	4. Exhaustion's Toll

AN - So, I've figured out a schedule (more or less) for how I'm going to write stuff. I've got two big stories going at a time, and I'll essentially dedicate one week to a chapter. If nothing comes out for either story per week, I'm either behind, or working on a one-shot for some reason even though I have other things to be writing. I know, I'm not the most logical guy, but I give it my all, eh?

Also, as a sort of thing - in the future, I'll always put an 'M' with everything I can to highlight that the chapter might be mature in content (sexual will also be highlighted, violence will also be highlighted). The sex scenes will probably be skippable, but the more violent chapters will likely be important- but I'll still put warnings between the paragraphs, and summaries at the end of the story. Just a note for the future, right?

* * *

Unto the End!

Chapter 4; Exhaustion's Toll

* * *

Balfaraz awoke with a groan, his limbs tired and aching. Memories of the night before hit him in slow, rolling waves, combining with the stiff couch he had chosen to sleep on.

He had regained his human form overnight apparently, though whatever the potion was had left it's mark on him rather...distinctly, between the casual aching in his loins to the sore discomfort he felt after a nearly-botched transformation.

Glancing up from his covers, he saw that the bed was empty already- Saljah was asleep halfway on the floor, snoring loudly. She almost looked cute, he supposed- between the way her hair seemed to spread across her face to the gentle rising and falling motions of her chest (again, the aching in his loins returned momentarily as he eyed the heaving breasts, shaking his gaze soon after), and the quiet rustle of wind against the window combined with the gentle chirping of birds and chatter of townsfolk outside and below.

Almost peaceful, he though. Almost like home.

Willing himself through ache and torment, he wrenched himself into a sitting posistion before standing-

He bit back a curse as he stumbled, muscles screaming against his every movement. Had he always been this tired, and had been too stubborn to realize it? Had he truly been so callous, traveling and toughing it out? He was merely a wizard, after all, someone devoted to the practice of books and magic and spells and libraries, not the constant pushing through enviormental hazards and difficulties.

He had done so apathetically, he realized, focused solely on his own survival. He was trying to keep alive, and that-

Once more looking at the Fox Keidran for a moment, he then smiled gently, for the first time in a while- such a tired, tired smile, he himself could feel it, before he made for the door to acquire breakfast.

* * *

Downstairs, the portly barmaid approached with a jiggle in her belly and a sparkle in her eyes. "So! How did the potion turn out for ye'?" "..." Balfaraz pointed to his undone hair, the dark circles forming under his eyes, and the ragged expression.

She laughed. "Keidran, they run ya' rowdy, don't they? Don't blame ya', you need a bit more meat on you, they're ferocious!" "Ahuh, look, how much is it for some breakfast n' a bath key?" "Fer you n' the Keidran, if you want to keep spoilin' her, 9 silver asa' total- unless ya'want a key fer the Keidran, too, then it's 11 silver."

Digging into his pockets momentarily, he dug out the coins and placed them in the fat lady's hand. "Alrighty! We'll be up with yer stuff!"

* * *

Balfaraz and the Keidran had both recieved their breakfasts. They sat in silence, eating, before the mage finally broke the stiff quiet.

"...what do you remember from last night?"  
She was on the cusp of finishing her fish, licking her claws. "I drank the potion while you sleep. It made me feel..." she paused for a moment. "Hazy. Happy." "And you were also rather ready to mate?" "Yes, as if it would mean nothing, it would add to the bliss."  
"Our bodies must process that liquid differently. For you, it's an aphrodisiac, then-" "Why do you ask?" "...you climbed on top of me and attempted to coerce me into sexual action, and administered the same drink to me. It forced a Worgen Transformation for a couple of hours afterward, as my guess, while leaving my human form exhausted afterwards due to the forced nature of it."

She blinked after a moment before frowning. "I apol-" "Nah, 'sokay. We didn't know, just...we know what to stay away from, now, at least for me, right? I dunno if you're going to want mor-"  
"No. I felt...out of control, dazed. My head hurts this morning."

He shrugs. "Guess we're staying in town for today. Might as well rest up, right?"

After a moment she nods, the wizard holding up two keys. "Can wash up, too- it might help."

Taking a key, she followed him downstairs.

* * *

Balfaraz relaxed, fully nude in a tub full of steaming water. It was soothing, to feel the water lap against him, the soapy foam covering his lower figure. Again, nothing filled the air but a heavy silence thick with tension and boredom.

He didn't know what or how they would spend time for the day while supposed to be 'resting' - his idea was curling up with a book on a rainy day with a hot mug of tea, but this time he had someone else to bring along with him- evidently she was tired as well, if not experiencing some variant of a hangover from the potion, so he would make do.

The clinking of the door opening interrupted his train of thought, the mage blinking his eyes as he watched Saljah enter in the nude. Sitting up without worrying about modesty (thanks to the bubbles!), he looked at her.  
"Wouldn't let you in another one?" "...Keidran must accompany their 'master'," She snarled. "Hmph." "Yeah, yeah, just don't let your eyes travel down south, now get in and let me help wash you."

Her face visibly flushed with crimson under her fur, fox tail twitching about. "...what?" "I'm going to help you, nothing more, nothing less." Balfaraz leaned back, sitting comofrtably. "Or just join me and relax for a while, either way it seems like we're still stuck with each other."

Tentatively, she set down her towels and such before sitting across from him in the wooden tub, easing her way into the hot water. Balfaraz closed his eyes, humming gently to himself.

"It is...relaxing. I will admit." "Yep. You had any baths like this?" "No. Just in lake waters. Cold, never...relaxing." She sniffed the air. "...or scented."

"Yep, this world isn't too far from mine except for the disparity of races." She paused for a moment before looking at him for an explanation, to which he delivered.

"I come from a world where there are a LOT of different peoples, all trying to do a LOT of different things. Most of them fall under one of two factions- red or blue, horde or alliance. I'm a human, much more a worgen- so I'm in the alliance," he explained. "But there's all sorts of stuff- Goblins, Trolls, Orcs, Forsaken- Undead, my bad- Elves of all sorts, Pandaren, Draenei- Alien, Blue Goat People, I know, confusing- all sorts of stuff."

"Many different peoples, all together on one world...?" "Yep. And it's fought with wars, strife, all sorts of chaos."

Pausing for a moment once more, Saljah nodded. "Mekkan is...filled with war as well, between the three races- Basitins, Humans, and Keidran. Keidran are remniscent of your living animals, while Basitins are a sort of hybrid between man, rabbit, and some variant of feline- while humans are, well, as you know them, humans."

"Lifespans?" "Humans should remain the same, living usually as per normal- Us Keidran, however, only live to around 15 before we grow old and die- Basitins, however, are able to sustain their lives halfway beyond the limit of a human."

"As a worgen, the curse enables me four times my maximum age- I'm going to grow old to the age of about 300 or 400, if I live long enough." He snorted. "Good to know." Looking over at her for a moment, he paused and hesitated before asking- "Hey, how old are you?"

"Five summers, soon six." "Mmn. Any way to prolong a Keidran's lifespan?" "Possibly magic- none exist yet that are widely known, however."

Leaning his head back against the tub, he sighed. "Good to know."

* * *

The two had exited from the baths, dried off, and were currently sitting in the main tavern, deactivated collar around Saljah's neck. Lunch was decent- Balfaraz chose, again, a simple steak, while Saljah had requested the same instead of some variant of fish (she requested via telling him, and allowing him to order, of course). The inn itself was large, but he had been in it big enough that it had begun to feel small- he had begun to get used to the hallways and winding paths that led to the various rooms.

Balfaraz had a glass of water- Saljah, the same- when a burly man approached, great beard swaying in braids. He nudged the mage, prompting him to look up.

"...so. Yer Fox fer sale?" "No, sorry. Gotta get her somewhere, a prize for a lord." "Aye, indeed, but I could make you an offer fer her. What say ye- a sack of gold?" He took out a large sack from his belt and set it on the table with a loud 'thunk', coins jingling from within.

"Again, sorry, but I'm not selling her." Saljah's tail swished impatiently.

"...fine, I'll just take her by some -other- diplomatic matters, then." The brute suddenly slugged Balfaraz in the jaw, sending him out of his chair and stumbling to the side.

He felt a warm fluid drizzle down from his split lip, muscles still screaming for rest from before- but blood pounded in his ears as he saw the very same liquid on his fingertips.

He wasn't going to waste magic on this oaf, he'd use what he had to from the curse to overwhelm him- it was the lesser of two costs, as long as he maintained enough control to keep from transforming fully.

The man laughed with a holler. "That Fox will make me a mint after I'm through having my way with her, runt- should have handed it over while you stood a chance to make something of her." He then began to lumber over, grabbing a stool on the way as the patrons seemed to catch notice finally.

Just as the larger man was about to slam the stool's pegs down over his head, the smaller man rolled to the right and used the bare momentum of it to right himself onto his feet and a hand (somewhat posed like Spiderman), staring at the giant attacker. "Give it a rest. You're far too slow to hit me when my guard is up."

Again, he laughed before charging in. That much mass would have a hard time stopping once it started moving, that was simple physics- so all Balfaraz needed to do was tire him out before he decided to crash into something that would knock himself flat out with his own power.

The large man rushed him, launching meaty fist after fist and attempting to even grab his head to club him into the bar. Balfaraz was on top of his all to dodge each and every motion, everything beginning to move slower as his worgen instincts kicked in- his skin tanned as his eyes began to glow faintly blue, fangs formed in his teeth as his blonde hair turned a shade of brown. Muscles began to subtly line his form as the transformation progressed halfway, to a point.

Finally, after the large oaf seemed to tire, he struck out with a tanning fist at the man's jaw. He took it, and Balfaraz launched his attack.

He mixed punch with elbow, elbow with slam, slam with clubbing, clubbing with grappling, anything he could do to get ahold of the larger man and beat him down into submission- his muscles screamed in agony as he exerted himself, form becoming less and less accustomed to holding the halfway-point, wanting to complete the transformation, but he couldn't, not yet-

Leaping backwards and catching his breath, he redoubled the mental concentration on NOT shapeshifting as the large oaf huffed and puffed, readying for a charge-

Time seemed to pass slowly, halting completely-

He sidestepped him just in time as he sailed out the door, huffing. The patrons let loose a cheer at the mage as Saljah ran to greet him, his human form taking prominence once more.

"I could have assisted, should you have required." "Worked enough for me to handle it as I did. Appreciate the offer, though." They shared a grin before she bowed her head, declaring something in her tongue - 'Missa'- before looking at him. He raised an eyebrow.

"'Missa'?" "Honored. I know your worth- you have proven your honor to me." She seemed to smile a lot happier, a lot more openly- it was strange.

The portly barmaid waddled up to the exhausted man, face red with fury. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT'S GOING TO TAKE TO REPAIR THE DAMAGE YOU CAUSED?! I'M LOOKING AT ABOUT FIVE GOLD'S WORTH-"

He threw a handfull of coins at her before turning to stumble up the stairs to his room.

* * *

He woke from an unrestful nap at a nudging on his arm. Saljah awoke him, letting him blink for a moment-  
It had just become night, that much was evident. She was still cheery, somewhat.

"Come. We both require a real bed, it will help." "Nah, take it-" "The cold is coming. I require additional warmth under the blanket."  
"You...want me to sleep in the same bed as you." "For survival and rest, yes." Blinking for a moment, the mage shrugged, unwrapping himself and wandering over to the main bed. Sooner than before he was wrapped in the blanket, he collapsed and tired. He shut his eyes, fatigue washing over him.

The bed was shifting, the shuffling of cloth gently coming through the night, before he felt a furred warmth against his body. Opening an eye lazily, he found the fox laying beside him, almost on him, shivering under the cover. Debating for a moment before removing his leather chestpiece from his armored form, he turned and grabbed the Beast-Lady and embraced her in the cold.

"...just get some sleep," he muttered. "We'll be out of here tomorrow, so don't worry."

And eventually, a combination of the gentle warmth contrasting with the cold chill of the night air, the gentle movements of her tail, curling around his leather-clad leg, or the musky scent mixed with the soaps and shampoos that Saljah had used earlier, he fell into a sleep that earned him Rest's Tender Kiss.


	5. A Different Perspective

AN - Here we are again. I got nothing important to report from my end, so...well. Here we go.  
Also, just a hint- I might be including more elements from different places.

Unto the End we stride, dear friends- here's where it begins to pick up (I would think).

* * *

Chapter 5 ; A Different Perspective

Balthanax 'awoke' - awakening, being his essence regaining conciousness. He could remember so much, so much hate he could feel boiling up inside of him. Something in the back of his head was burning and ticking, he wanted to do something, was itching to- he wanted to kill and feed.

But as he was, he could only do so much. Had the vortex of energies which Balfaraz consumed them both in torn him that far apart? It was peculiar, he found, that his previous physical form was so weak- it was almost impressive, that the worgen had managed to tear it asunder.

But he would just keep coming back. He was tied to the mage, after all- one cannot exist without the others, are their souls were still linked.

Balthanax had taken all the precautions to ensure his survival. Balfaraz, by nature, was distant- almost inhuman, in his thought process, as he focused so much on staying alive or achieving whatever directive might drive him forward that he often ignored everything human, though his more...open, side did show once and a while. Otherwise, the Mage was bound to survive anywhere, anyhow.

Balthanax, upon severing himself, had thus adjusted accordingly- they were linked in soul, so that if one died, the other would. He had then severed himself as an entity from the mage and begun his purpose.

But lately, he had begun to question it- was he truly supposed to do this all? The black magicks of blood and nothingness that comprised his very being urged him to destroy and control, devour and consume all he could- but he found more of Balfaraz's influence taking place, more and more willpower surging through his being. Originally, he had no qualms about doing so - he was more than willing to slaughter a man, but he had found something he previously was unable to in his heart.

Hesitation, and oh, he loathed it, because after that came regret after he struck someone down.

And so, he had to do what he could to survive.

Bracing his might, he willed his energies of blood and void to take form, drawing from the energy of the surrounding grass- life energy began to trickle forth, mixing with the swirling currents of blood to create flesh, grafting itself upon bone. Dark energies wove him a form akin to a human once more- at their physical peak.

Taking possession within it's cranium, he forged a brain around himself and willed his eyes open. Feeling the void energies he commanded suddenly surge forward, he willed once more for it all to take form- violet armor cloaking his form with yellow, socketed gems of minerals from the enviorment. Energy sapped further from the flora about him, killing the land itself and not just the plants.

Slowly taking his stand, he looked over and found a path. Continuing to sap the life from the enviorment as he strode, he began to follow it and began his damned march.

* * *

Balthanax stared at the slumped form of the fallen guard, that same sinking feeling tugging at his stomach- regret. Something was burning and coiling deep in his stomach, did he want to do this? Did he want to bring ruin to another world?

Looking over, he saw something peculiar- what looked akin to a worgen, almost, but thinner, locked in a cage. Looking back at the fallen guard, he willed blood magic to weave forth and create a needle, shoving it deep within the head's ear and willing void magics to tear his mind asunder, to plunder his secrets.

Instantly, he could feel the ebb and flow of the remaining blood, still trying to pump through his body- the man's final, shuddering thoughts. Digging deeper, he willed it-

So many damned things surged forth at once- Mekkan, Keidran, Basitins, Humans, Templars, Magic, everything, all known to him through this human, through his limited knowledge.

Slavery. Not a bad idea.

Pausing for a moment as he looked upwards toward the imprisoned wolf, he grinned, humored.

Who needs slaves when you work best alone?

* * *

Templars approached the burning outpost- Jorach ran this, with his whore of a Keidran- emphasis on 'was'.

Something was off. The building was burning with violet flames, tearing apart and burning even upon the used ashes, ending at the grass. Spires of black stone- or steel, he could not tell- rose from the ground, lifting the roof from the original framework of the buildings. Twisting matters of black and purple shifted around, like roots, the Keidran and her master both impaled-

A warning. The Templar frowned before looking back at the men for a moment, dismounting and approaching a spire. The smell of rancid rot and burning ash tickled his nostrils, but he continued forth into the rubble, sifting through.

Another approached him, clearly disturbed. "Sir, are we to-" "One of our outposts gets obliterated by magic unlike any kind, leaving only carnage and destruction. Of course we're to report it." The first templar turned around, looking at him. "You're going t-"

 _Shhfffft._

He stopped, gasping and bubbling as blood shot forth from his mouth. Balthanax tsk'd behind them, shaking his head slowly. "...don't you know better than to wander about, freely, in claimed territory?" Balthanax removed the steel blade impaling the man and kicked him aside, approaching the trembling, secondary Templar.

"Tell your superiors that I am coming, if you don't want to die here. Live to ride another day, little messenger. And come back, perhaps, when you can master the power of the light to stand against the void, and not with mere paltry Arcane." He placed a hand on the man's shoulder gently, violet energy staining it momentarily before he grinned at the man, lifting his hand to see his reaction.

Quivering in fear as he stared at him, the knight then turned on his heel and bolted in almost an instant moment.

* * *

The Council of Templars laughed, lounging about in their room. "I do say, we should have these meetings more often. I find your jokes to be rather amusing, Lady Calsiph," Lord Falsirr spoke. They were all concealed in simple hoods and robes, never to conceal their true identity to each other- they knew only their names and only of the things they spoke of within this council, all for the purpose of keeping each individual council member safe.

It had been far, far long since Trace Legacy had brought them to power, and at the...timely, disposal of the Emperor by the Wolf Clans, that left a power gap for the Templar to fill by filling it in with a simple Monarchy. It was an easy ploy, of course, on paper- in action, however, the Templars often butted heads due to their arrogance on various matters, and used titles and such to manipulate each other.

Then, the idea of an anonymouse, ruling council from the various nobles within the Templar's Guild was brought about- each knew not of each other, only by name and voice, not by appearance nor likes or dislikes.

But suddenly, an interruption found their way to the council- a blood-soaked Templar shouldered past the doors and collapsed on the floors, reeking of death, ash and urine. He grabbed at his hair, tugging this way and that, staring at the floor.

"What the hell HAPPENED to you, lad?" "The...the purple...he...darkness, I...Black, Killed..."

"Calm down, calm down," Lady Calsiph cooed as she approached and crouched down beside him, featureless hood angled in his direction. "Calm yourself. Tell us."

"...we arrived at the outpost outside of Paleshire- there was smoke drifting up from the building, and so me n' my captain investigated. The buildin'- it was, ah- it was torn asunder! All sorts of things, purple fire, black moss, spires of...black and steel, hoisting things up- there was rot, too, someone had been dead for a while, but the fires-"

"Easy. Easy. What then?"

"We...we went inside. Then the Cap'n was...he wuz' killed, suddenly, by the...THING." "...thing?" "Something of- a creature, or something, looked human enough mostly, except for the head- purple armor, lots of skulls, yellow gems- black, big ponytail, with red eyes-" "Keep going." "His...teeth, his mouth- it went from his upper jaw...to- to his COLLARBONE, pracitcally, it- needle teeth, rows of them, glimmering and flashing in blood-" "...anything else?"

"He wanted me to give ya' a warnin', he wants to hurt this world, hurt us, KILL US ALL- HE'S GOING TO KILL US ALL, AHAHAH-" He laughed, grabbing at his head. His shoulder flared with a surge of magic, violet in color and slowly expanding in pulsing, rhythmic movements. The Templar's skin broke and cracked in a fashion similar to how weathered stone might, the cracks glowing with the same malevolent violet color.

His armor devolved into sludge, flesh melding with clothing as his skin sagged. White streaks formed in the globule of flesh and void, his form sinking in on itself as the council members stood (if not already standing) - five in total - and backed away, maintaining focus on the forming monstrosity of magic and flesh.

It finally stopped, completely transformed from the image of a templar. It was about as tall as a wolf, the entire form of it comprised of a violet-black-white sludge that was ever-shifting - the torso was still intact in form, with two three-fingered hands and arms coming forth from it as the lower portion was transformed into a mass of tentacles, splayed out around it. The head itself was replaced by a gaping hole of a mouth, teeth jaggedly emerging from various angles.

The thing suddenly leapt at a council member, tackling it to the ground and taking bites, raking it with claws as the seeping form of it soaked onto it to shift the councilor's robe and form further, to make it akin.

* * *

Balthanax grinned, breaking the monitor crystal with a toss at the ground. Turning around, he continued down the path, allowing his siphoning of the environment to fade away as a spell.

All was progressing as it should have been.

* * *

Balfaraz awoke suddenly in the middle of the afternoon, cold sweat gripping him. He stared hard at the ceiling, trying to make sense of what his dream yielded- there was always something to gleam from dreams like these, none other were so vivid.

And he only got them when Balthanax was being particularly active-

Gritting his teeth, he lifted a hand to his forehead and pressed with his palm, groaning before something caught his notice.

His other arm was locked into place, along with the leftmost part of his body, by Saljah's snoozing. The Fox was curled up against him in the regular-temperature mid-day, sleeping peacefully. Some part of him felt the need to reciprocate the affection, or as his subconscious perceived it, anyways- but the more carnal part of him was invoked as his eyes traveled down her body, from her modest 'assets' to the portrusion of her posterior against the blanket.

"...you wish...mate?" She looked at him through the haze of sleep, blinking hazily at him. Her ears flicked about as his face reddened, the mage looking away.

Before he could answer, she was climbing on top of him, her face pressed into his.

"...relieve yourself. I need some help, too."

And with that, he allowed the worgen to transform him and have it's way.

* * *

Late into the night, the two were still in bed- noticable damage had been done between the wooden scratches on the bedframe to the tears in the fabric. But it was well spent, he had felt- he did feel something slowly...retreating, in the back of his head.

While uncertain and...'needing', he had taken the precaution for a bit of spellcasting to make sure pregnancy wasn't an option- it was just a source of stress relief for them both, right? She didn't hold any affection for him other than a friend- they never locked eyes as lovers would, nor did they embrace or kiss- they serviced each other for each other's satisfaction, to clear their heads. Like animals, only servicing each other's need.

Bah, so be it. He'd pay for the extra night in the morning. It'd keep them both alive in the end to have a clear head, so it would be best to just rest.

* * *

AN - So, if you guys want me to, prod me enough- and vigorously, at that- to write that section out for your...'satisfaction', and I'll try to muster the courage for it. Similar things for the future, screw the 'M' thing-warning, I'm not making that a part of this and would rather have it as a seperate document.  
Anyways, seeya next time!


	6. Furs of All Kinds

Unto the End

Chapter 6 - Furs of All Kinds

* * *

The two had left Paleshire and were making their way southwards- Balfaraz had little idea of where he was going, and so he let Saljah lead (though he had little faith that she knew as well). Though she clearly resented it, passing by human territories required the usage of the disenchanted collar, so he had done his best to make their stops quick, if any at all. Otherwise, they lived life as they had before- spending theirs days walking, talking, stopping only to eat and camp for rest.

Balfaraz was correct in his Hypothesis from 'the night'. Her attitude had not changed towards the mage (other than an amount more of respect for him), and some part of him was...dissapointed. His guilty pleasure had always been a good romance novel, perhaps even the odd smut here and there- perhaps that had exercised him to put a little too much weight on something that was simply meant to be relieving. The worgen's carnal nature had been dampened greatly, at least for a time, and it allowed him clearer thought- so in the end, it seemed beneficial on his end.

Something felt off, though. His stomach would turn every once and a while, and a whiff of decay and a stench of smoke would occasionally reach his nose. The dream from the night before continued to plague his thoughts on occasion, when he had nothing to speak with Saljah about, nor any interesting environments to observe.

And so they traveled.

* * *

Now, nothing particularly happened except for what would be a montage, between Balthanax traveling about and doing dastardly deeds, to Balfaraz and Saljah wandering the roads in search of her village. They passed through towns, all three- the violet knight taking a more...dastardly approach, to dealing with the townspeople and natives by causing chaos indirectly.

But enough of that mental montage you have going in your head. It's time we move onto the next part, at a certain Harbor.

* * *

The Port town was decently-sized, the native's housing stretching on forward. Saljah, of course, had figured out that upon reaching this settlement that they were headed in the wrong direction- time wasted, time for an evil to rise.

So they traveled, under the disguise of Slave and Master, finding their way to an inn. They found themselves with similar arrangements as per before, oddly enough. An inn room with a single bed and a couch, and they ate- and slept.

But a ruccus outside their inn, coming from the window, awoke them.

Balfaraz growled, Saljah turning in the bed to ignore it as he stood from the couch and moved towards the window, preparing to yell. But the view he found was that of knights, harassing an armor-clad Keidran, of some sort- with large, bunny-like ears and blonde, sand-colored fur.

"I have my papers, I'm here as an emis-" "Back in your boat. We'll see if they're authorized." "Royal stamp from YOUR emissary and my queen, I- AM- A-" She was cut off by the quick swiping of the frontal knight's arm as he seized the papers, the one behind him stepping forward to push her (rather impolitely) back to the docks. She stumbled, ear twitching. "...as'val di Templars."

"What did you say?" "Nothing." "ANSWER."

Balfaraz frowned. He didn't like these Templars. He felt obligated to help this...'Basitin', but he couldn't make a scene.

Transforming into a worgen, he opened the window and crept down the side of the building, gripping lightly enough to the walls that his claws would just barely scrape and create a semblance of noise. The Templars slowly approached, hands raising to the swords holstered at their hips.

* * *

Emilia had to represent her people her- regardless of how infuriating these humans were being, she had to try and maintain a diplomatic image. Though the Templars had taken primary control over the human government- she was still meant to represent her kind. But these...fools, were making that mission nearly impossible.

Damn Humans.

...her ear twitched as a rhythmic 'tic-taccing' noise came from behind them, barely low enough that it would miss human frequencies. Something moved behind the two templar, something broad and great, glowing blue and wild eyes slowly approaching.

She slowly lifted a finger to point at it. "...what-" "BACK. BOA-"

A great clawed hand struck out from the shadows and grabbed the frontal templar that was moving her back, pulling him into the darkness. He wailed a terrified scream as he was dragged into the black of night before a single, feral growl sounded to end his shrieking, along with the quiet 'shfff' of blades sinking into armor. Terror crawled it's way into her heart, the other Templar turning around with a whirl and a shout of 'WHO DARES?!'

Something growled again, malevolently. Emilia slowly stepped back, eyes widened as -it- stepped into the lamplight- what looked like a Wolf Keidran, pushed to the absolute physical limits of it's being. It was hunched over, chest expanded, shirtless, revealing a white chest inside of the grey fur cloaking the creature. She -would- have called it a Keidran, too, if it weren't for the glowing blue eyes or the twitching, muscular forearms. The lower regions of the creature were cloaked in what looked like loose, simple pants that stretched against it's form.

The Templar screamed, a mix of fury and fear evident in his voice as he made a desperate, cowardly charge at the wolf-man. Evading the sword with a few ducks and sidesteps, it shot it's hand outwards in a chopping motion before it's claws pierced the nape of the man's neck. His aim was off, unfortunately, causing it only to skin the backside of the Knight's exposed neck.

He stumbled forward and lifted a hand to see the blood, slowly turning to glare at the great wolf-thing. He lifted his sword and commanded a single word - "ATHROS!"

A gust of wind buffeted the hulk, and he crouched, digging his claws into the wood as the templar neared, keeping the overwhelming winds centered on him as he aimed his blade for the thing's head.

Emilia picked her side by wrenching out her spear from her back and flicking it about in a deft motion, and the guardsman suddenly found a hole in his neck. He stumbled to the side of the dock before writhing on the floor. her documents falling out from his pockets as he rolled into the waters below.

The worgen growled and huffed, snorting and puffing as it regained it's composure. She took it and looked over him for a moment, extending a hand slowly.  
She jumped as he spasmed suddenly, muscles tensing. His form shrunk into that of a blonde, shaggy human, kneeling and leaning forward. She frowned in dissapointment as he finished, approaching and crouching before him.

"...so. You're the Wolf-Man rumors have been spreading." "...yeah." He turned to sit, rubbing the back of his head as a door opened and a Fox Keidran approached, naked as the day she was born. Emilia averted her gaze, frowning.

"Balfaraz, there you are. I heard commotion, then you changed and left..." she trailed off as the Keidran and Basitin locked eyes. An awkward silence grew before the Basitin cleared her throat and bowed.

"My thanks. I am Emilia, Ambassador of the Basitin Nation. You...you two are?" The human stood, tightening the loose strap that kept his pants up. "Balfaraz Korlinch, Mage, and Saljah, Protector." "Ah. Your slave."

Saljah hissed, glaring daggers. "NO SLAVE! I AM NO SLAVE!"

Balfaraz waved a hand at her. "Easy, you'll cause a ruccus-" "Isn't that against human law, to keep an unfettered Keidran?" Balfaraz looked back at her for a moment.

The mage and Basitin maintained eye contact for a moment before she sheathed her spear, looking aside. "Perhaps you two can show me the inn. I...ah. Require a place to stay." "Not looking for a bed on the boat?" "No," she stated suddenly. "...not if I can help it."

Balfaraz laughed, walking over and patting her back. "This way." Saljah grunted, fiddling with the broken shackle around her neck as they turned to approach the inn.

* * *

The inn door swung open, the three entering as the burly bartender- this one, a gruff male, looked upwards. He eyed the shirtless wizard briefly, turning his attention to the Basitin and Keidran out of Curiosity. The mage approached, looking him in the eye. "Aye, she needs a room."

"How the hell'd you get out? Didn't see you go through the door." "Mage. Teleport. Not enough energy to poof back into the room, so here I am." "...that usually takes a l-" Balfaraz lifted a finger, and he shushed. The man raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, I won't question it, but you'll pay extra in the morning for your room. Now, who's paying for yours?" His gaze turned to Emilia, who was busy picking at the leathers her armor consisted of under the plate.

She looked up and blinked. Before Balfaraz could move in, she took out a coin purse and shuffled through it. "How much for one night?"  
"3 Silver, lass. 5 if you want a bath key." She fished out the coins and set them down, the innkeep handing her two keys. She nodded her thanks to Balfaraz and Saljah before turning to the stairway to find her room.

Balfaraz sighed as Saljah crossed her arms. He looked over with a smirk.  
"Seems you lot have furs of all kinds."

* * *

"So, to be clear, there are THREE races. No more, no less?" "Well, there are dragons. Very rare, though."

Balfaraz grunted, popping his neck. "Neat. What, they live about as long as humans, give or take a few years, too?" "Mhm." "Best of both worlds."  
Saljah collapsed in her bed as Balfaraz extinguished the candle, laying down with aching muscles in his couch-bed.

"...hey, Saljah." "Hmn?" "Is your camp near wherever the human capital is?"

"I do not think so. It is along the way, however. All things are if you make your path so."

"Huh. Wanna add her to our group we seem to have made?" "...sure, but do not expect me to talk. She has shifty eyes, eyes of a Politician. Bad."

* * *

Emilia relaxed in the bath with a sigh, rubbing the soapy cloth over her fur. Her body was similarly-covered like the Keidran's by her fur, but she was not as immodest, as the rest of her kind, to show such things. She would wear whatever she might to retain her dignity- she represented her people, and had a duty to fulfill as ambassador.

Her thoughts drifted towards the two who had appeared- the Wolf-Man, 'Balfaraz', and Saljah, not his slave but rather...companion.

It was strange. The few cases she knew of when a Keidran was allowed to go unfettered, they did not choose human prescence willingly. What compelled her to do differently?  
The mage's laugh echoed in her mind, and she felt a faint blush under her fur. He did look...strange. Bold. Hands-

NO. She was above humans, above them all. The only reason she was here was because of the Human's advancements in technology- and the necessity to remain neutral or friendly for the sake of ensuring her people's survival. Humans were lowly, pink fleshy creatures with patches of fur, creatures that used magic and conquered each other, that waged genocide on innocents, she and her people were above such savages.

She grunted and continued washing, ear twitching with irritation as she continued washing. Yet the image of a shirtless human, blonde shaggy hair falling to the sides of his face and laughing without a care in the world lingered in the back of her mind...

* * *

The morning came, and Emilia went down to find Balfaraz back on his way up to the two's room, a plate of food in each hand. They blinked before he nodded and moved aside, allowing her to go downstairs.

Before she finished the decent, he looked back. "Oh, uh. You mind eating in our room? We've got the space, and we'd like to ask you something if you'd be inclined."  
 _NO._ "Sure, just give me a minute." _WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!_

Balfaraz nodded with a smile. "Aighty. Seeya up there." _AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH._

* * *

"Of course I'd be willing to join," she enthusiastically replied. Saljah rolled her eyes and continued eating her Salmon as Balfaraz stuck out his hand for a handshake. "Alright. We'll part ways when we have to, but for now we'll travel together. It's safer in groups, too, right?" "Yeah, and I've got the Wolf-Man with me if Templars decide to get fiesty." "I'm a Wizard too, you know."

Saljah looked up for a moment. "He claims it is called a 'Worgen', that form. Do not disgrace such a form by relating it to the likeness of a man." Balfaraz turned around to look at her for a moment, blinking. "Hey. Uncalled for, you know?" "Hmph."

Balfaraz rubbed the back of his head with a sigh before nodding to Emilia, standing and making his way towards the couch to grab the various leather pieces of armor and equipment. "I'll be getting ready, so...yeah. We'll leave when you guys are ready." Saljah and Emilia nodded for a moment before Balfaraz left.

They then continued to eye each other.

"...I should kill you. For what you did to them."  
"I regret it, truly, I do- I was under orders, though, I couldn't..."  
"I should kill you, for taking Karnaaj's life."  
"...I-"  
"And the moment that you leave our caravan...I'll start tracking you. I'll start hunting you."  
"..." She shuffled back.

"You killed my mate before he could give me a child." She finished her salmon and set it aside. "And when this is over, I will have my vengeance."

* * *

Balthanax was shot backwards by the great abomination of violet energy, the open plains echoing in shockwaves of magical might. The collosus was formless, it's hind quarters being more remniscent of a fog monster's. He neared, claws scraping along the ground, laughing as the violet knight slowly stood.

"...you failed us, being too weak for a mere mortal to cast you off. This world, however..." It lifted it's hands, laughing. "So much magic. So much chaos."

"Your services are no longer required." The Void-Abberation lifted a hand, and Balthanax was hit by another torrent of black energy, being sent flying off and into the river.

And the Mask watched idly before dissapearing with a sigh. "Disorder might be on it's way..."


	7. Revelations in the Night

AN - I might be a bit slower, as I'm beginning to enter that 'burnout' stage of writing a story. Believe me, though, I still fully intend to continuing to write and progress the story to the best of my ability. Love Triangles, battles, mysteries, people- all sorts of experiments and such I want to play out that I've got tucked away in a closet in my mind, and it's all just waiting. All I'm asking is that you be a bit patient if I can't keep to my schedule.

Also, thinking of adding Trace/The Gang in there eventually when I get fully caught-up with where the comics are. We'll see, right?

Anyways, let's continue with the story!

* * *

Unto the End  
Chapter 7; Revelations in the Night

Balfaraz stared up at the starry sky in thought, humming to himself gently. Something was ticking in the back of his head again- you know, that feeling you get when something's about to happen, something's BOUND to happen, but you just can't put your finger on it- yeah, that feeling.

It was something that had troubled him for a long, long while. But he pushed it aside, looking over at the small encampment they had made.

The group had traveled a full day ahead on the roads towards the Human Capital, and had been unable to find a proper inn- thus, they set camp at the side of the road, as many travelers did when trying to both get rest, but keep on their trail. Off to the side on a small gravel-strewn hill, the campfire's pit was burned out- embers only remaining, struggling futilely to re-ignite the burnt logs. Saljah was sleeping in a small pile to the side, curled in a ball- meanwhile, the Basitin was off to the side, using her cloak as a blanket and pack as a pillow as she slept stone-faced.

There was something curious he found about them both, he found. Saljah, a Keidran- from what he could gather, one of the less-developed ones by human standards and morals. The Keidran was of a Fox Variant- he'd have to ask if there were more, which there probably was- and was more the warrior than he could ever aspire to be, he felt. She carried herself with honor and courage, proudly flaunting her figure (and, erm...'assets',) to any that might challenge her or her situational companion.

Then there was the newcomer to the party- the 'Basitin', Emilia. She was certainly no Keidran, he could tell from the way she held herself with a mixture of dignity and pride, but remained a neutral look instead of casting a confident glare at whoever passed her. She was antisocial- very rule-based, he could tell. He had guessed that she was a little more than she let on as just being an emissary, but still. Her fur was cream, eyes yellow, and ears a mixture between a rabbit's and a cat's.

Fascinating.

He turned his gaze upward, and found himself gazing into something similar to a mask. He jumped and shouted- tried to, anyways, but something was...stopping him, blocking him.

The figure was a hunched figure bearing somewhat feminine traits, silver hair behind a cracked grey mask with gleaming yellow eyes. She cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowed in consideration.

"I had thought that my change to the human and Keidran was interesting, enough to preserve Keidran blood of some kind- and yet, here you are. Another creature, not of this world...yet- bearing traits of both Keidran and Human."  
He looked over to the two others of the camp. They continued sleeping.

"They will not find my prescence. Do not try to alert them."  
"Have I gone mad, specter?" "Not mad. I simply wish to speak. Stand, and walk with me."

"And if I don't?" The figure's eyes flared in response, a bright yellow light pouring from them.  
Balfaraz swallowed and stood, nodding.

* * *

"I have been watching you for some time, Mage." The figure tread down the gravel path but soon crossed off to the side, into the woods. Balfaraz followed along, eyes calculating the figure's every move. "Strange, don't think we've met." "Oh, no, we haven't- I've made sure to conceal myself as best appropriate. But I watched, indeed, my little friend."

"Who are you?" "I am Ephemural- a Mask, a demigod of this realm." "Hmn. I'm-" "Balfaraz Korlinch, a Worgen...and outsider, to this land. One who bares a curse that he controls at will to transform into a hulking wolf-man. You travel with a Keidran, to take her back to her village- and an Ambassador, to take her to the palace directly to fulfill her duty. Rather charitable, aren't you?"

"They're both people, all of us are, under flesh n' skin. You look deep enough, we've all got wants, needs, desires, fears, everything you have- someone else has, in one way or another." The mask raised a hand to her 'mouth', chuckling.  
"Your outlook is refreshing, I must say- only a handful think as you do, Wizard. Most of the humans here are...twisted, in their desires. It is my place to keep conflict brewing- to keep control between the races varied and striving- if order sits for too long, men will become used and complacent. If chaos settles, nothing will be up and down, wrong and right. I keep everything set in balance."

"Set in...balance. Are you- what, some sort of...Neutral, God? Goddess?" Another tittering chuckle. "Perhaps."  
The two found themselves in a glade, of sorts- almost comparative to elven in beauty, with the lucious green trees and the faintly-glowing pools. The mask turned to him, yellow eyes pulsing with light.

"Balfaraz." "Hmn?" "You...are strange. A paragon of balance, between fury and control- between beast and man. You represent what I strive for- a balance between madness and order. And I find it intriguing that you are here, on my world- when you clearly are not from it. Even your Magic is peculiar- you generate it by yourself, your own store, slowly- but it's still something. You need not draw from crystals nor environment."

"Just...what, are you, Balfaraz Korlinch?" She removed her mask to show a glowing yellow face, wispy and foggy and remniscent of a woman's- but still undecipherable beyond that. The mage blinked as she rested a hand on his shoulder.

He fell to his knees as his body suddenly began to shift involuntarily, fury gripping the recesses of his mind- rampant, but ignorable. He allowed his form to shift further and complete, until he was that of a worgen. Ephem watched docilely, looking for a moment at her mask before re-applying it, the yellow energy once more contained to her eyes. He looked up, grunting with a heaving bulk that the form granted him.

"You are still you, yes? Wolf-Man?" "Balfaraz...I am no- I am NO, Wolf-Man." She approached with a slow walk, lifting a hand to drag across his muzzle.  
"Fascinating..."

"Listen. Demi-God lady. I get that you're intrigued. It's nice to meet you and all," Balfaraz growled, "But I need to sleep. I need to help my friends get to where they need to. Then, I need to find another fucker that PROBABLY came with me so that I can, at least- devise a way back to my home- or at most, kill him in the process. So, I'm going to leave n-"

Her grip tightened around his ear. He growled, fangs bared. "...not yet," she muttered. "I have questions, so much to-"

"You are immortal," the worgen replied. "You do not need sleep or rest or food or drink. I, however, am MORTAL. I need these things. I'd be happy to answer some questions, but right now? I need sleep."  
Ephemural tilted her head to the side in quiet thought and consideration.

"Always a balance, always is it needed. So be it- we shall speak when you awaken. I will be unseen to your allies, only to you. I will watch until you are able to speak."  
"Because I'm just that interesting, huh?" He smiled, spreading his arms to the side and flaunting his figure. The demigoddess approached slowly, stopping at his side and lifting a hand to gently squeeze his shoulder before turning and striding into the woods.

When he turned back to follow her, she was gone. The Worgen bowed down on all fours, following the path back.

* * *

As he reached the road, he heard shouting from farther north- he saw a man, trembling at a collection of figures, clad in black and brandishing blades of a variety. The man himself was dressed in simple garb- a farmer or peasant of some sort, covered in scrapes and dirt. He was rather clearly scared out of his mind, eyes wide with shock at the figures that held him there.

The figures themselves had two distinguishing figures that gave him insight to their identities- swiveling canine ears protruding from their hoods, and thick bushy tails curling around their legs or waist. Keidran- a Wolf Variant, it seemed.

Oh, boy. That explained the confusion with the Worgen Form.

He prowled beside the road, keeping to the shadows as his claws would occasionally tick-tack against a stray rock. The worgen let his teeth raise, let that familiar fury rise a little...

 _Snap._ A twig was crushed underpaw.

The Keidran shuffled over to grab the farmer, holding him up and placing the knife just below his throat. The Keidran called out in loose common-

"We ahr takeeng the ahv teh mur-chant. Geet closarr and you weel hart, and both die."  
With his current appearance, he might pass for a feral-enough beast...

Balfaraz stuck to the plan he had quickly drafted and slowly approached forward, remaining down on all fours as his rippling muscles strained against his fur. His teeth were bared, recently painted with blood as to cast a brownish-crimson look. His fur was matted and dirty, eyes wild with fury-

The two wolves slowly backed up, at first confused- before confusion gave way to fear, and fear to horror as he slowly stood on two fours. He inhaled deeply...

An ear-piercing roar rang out from the worgen's throat, and the Keidran stumbled, grabbing their ears. The Peasant cowered where he was, a small leakage of urine slowly dotting his trousers. Balfaraz approached the two, teeth bared, grabbing both by the ears and muttering a word-

"Run."

They didn't need further encouragement, dissapearing off into the forest faster than one might say 'Zoom', whimpering all the way as they cried out in their native Keidran tongue. He slowly turned his gaze to the peasant, who was still cowering under the midst of night and the dropped torch's dying light.

The Wolf-Man turned his back, lowering to all fours and leaping off down the path.

* * *

The group awoke to a snoring Balfaraz in the late morning, and woke him as usual. The packed their things, dirtied the fire, making sure it wouldn't spark again on it's own, and proceeded down the path.

The group crossed by a river, however, eventually. There, they found a figure that paralyzed Balfaraz, as Emilia and Saljah stepped forward to help the outsider clad in violet armor and wreathed with black energy.

Balfaraz stared at the unconcious body of Balthanax, determining then and there what to do. He coughed violently, scarlet mixing with water as the two women hauled him up. They looked up at the wide-eyed mage, raising an eyebrow. "Know him?"

Balthanax laughed bitterly. "I would hope so, after all I did to him." "Balthanax, why ar-" "Long story short? This time, I'm not the bad guy."  
The Violet-Clad C'thraxxi laughed bitterly, coughing spurts of crimson and scarlet across the grass as he crawled his way up towards the human mage. "Entropious hungers for Mekkan, Balfaraz...it's about time we put our shit aside for once, and stand against a real threat." "I can't, not with you- no, NEVER." "Balfaraz, you...weakling. This isn't about -us- anymore, no family feuds, 'father'..."

"You've made friends here...this land, it has...people. And they're all going to die unless we do something about it."

* * *

Sorry to leave it on a Cliffhanger, but hey! The meeting of Balfaraz and Balthanax once more! Perhaps I should throw in a chapter for a bit of prologue to explain what exactly transpired between the characters, huh, from their point of view?

Also, Balthanax is going to have a hell of a time interacting between the group now. We have our main four, so now we can get the main story moving! Ephemural watches from the shadows, and the land of Mekkan is slowly becoming aware that someone out there is wearing the face of both a man and a wolf- and no good can come of it.

Balfaraz himself is a magical battery, recharging constantly. Were the Templars to find this out? Bad times, indeed.

Trace and the gang are out there, somewhere- perhaps they'll be called into action here soon, hmn?

And last but not least... there's some variant of a feud between Emilia and Saljah. It might be in their best interest to settle that for the road ahead- but not all things can come easily.

I'll leave it up to you guys, what would you guys want to see progressed further from here-on-out? I'm presenting three paths to start with-

-Saljah v. Emilia  
-Legend of the Wolfman  
-The Templar's Attention

Until we meet again- and remember from now, and until the next time we meet, unto the end we all stride-

But Unto the End, we all stride together.


	8. A Forboding Feeling

SO. Hello there. It's certainly been a while, hasn't it?  
Don't worry. I'm back with a solid idea of what I want to try and throw out in terms of a story. I'm going to try to drop the whole 'schedule' idea for the sake of throwing up chapters with more girth that I can put more effort into- I think the schedule actually kinda burned me out for a bit.  
But I'm Back, and together, we'll stride UNTO THE END!

* * *

Chapter 8; A Forboding Feeling

* * *

"Explain," Balfaraz growled as he gripped Balthanax by the arm tightly. "EXPLAIN. WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!"

"If I remember correctly, it was your failure of a spell that sent us here in the first place." "GAAAAAH." He slapped the black-haired man, shaking him as the purple-clad knight laughed. "So impatient."

"I've kind of grown attached to this place, so yeah, I'd rather not see it fucking CONSUMED BY THE DARKNESS OF THE FUCKING VOID."

Balthanax shrugged, removing Balfaraz's arm with a crushing grip. "Keep your dress on, Wizard." "BALTHANAX, I'M GOING T-"

They were interrupted by the twin sound of the two females shouting. "GUYS!"

""WHAT?!""

Emilia sighed heavily while Saljah strode up and slapped them both. "Your bickering is pointless. There is evil," she rumbled, "and it seeks to take our home. I will not sit by as the two who know most squabble like children."

"Saljah. You don't underst-" Balthanax laughed. "What doesn't she understand?" The C'thraxxi turned his head to face Balfaraz. "Your damn time is at an end, Balfaraz, unless you listen to reason and put aside your damn differences. I don't care how much you hate me and I'm sure as hell not going with my gut instincts to rip off your head and start a damned game of kick-the-ball, so try and contain your damn fury."

"You know something's wrong with you when a villain can conduct his personal vengeance better than you can." The mage gritted his teeth, form expanding against the leather armor as he neared the cusp of beginning to transform. A steeled glare from Saljah found it's way to his sight, and beyond that the startled gaze of Emilia. He closed his eyes and flexed his hands, slowly shrinking back into his human proportions.

"...right." Turning around to face Balthanax, he offered a handshake. "This is not done. We are definitely talking, at the least, when this is over."  
"I'd hoped for a screaming match, but sure." The two clamped hands and shook stiffly. Emilia finally neared the group.

"...if we are seeking a path to follow, then we have it set out for us-" She motioned down towards the road, armor clanking lightly. "The nearest town treads down that path, and without proper supplies and rest we won't get anywhere. And reinforcements, I believe."

"No good, not the damned human capital, at least." Balthanax turned to look at the kingdom looming in the distance. "I made sure to corrupt a soldier with a seedling of magic that would have burst once he reached a certain altitude on the stairway. Infectious with corrupting void energies." "God Dammit Balthanax."

The gaze fell to the town. "Likely our best bet is to find a seperate army to follow and enlist." He turned to point at Emilia. "You there. What are you?"

"A basitin from the Basitin Nation of-" "Yeah yeah. How decent is your military structure?"

"Er. It can overcome many difficult-" "Good. Mental Capacities?"

"Intellegent officers command them." "Morale?"

"I can't tell that from here-" "GAH." He threw his hands up in frustration, violet armor clanging and chinking as it protested his motions. "...okay. Well. YOUR fucking nation seems like the best bet, since YOU-" he pointed at Saljah- "Are a nation of Slave-Animals or Slave-Furries or WHATEVER, and YOU-" He pointed at Balfaraz- "Have no guild to call to use as meatshields. SO, the best bet we have is-" he turned back to Emilia. "Your nation."

"The boat ride is a week and is often riddled with storms and dangers, ah- and I have orders to find the capi-" "Yeah, yeah, Ambassador, i got that from the armor- no one keeps armor that clean if they don't want to make a good impression." Her cheeks flushed as she struggled to find an answer, but she found herself inept as he continued. "There won't be a damn capital that will accept an ambassador by the time we arrive." He turned to the path, trudging up the hill from the river and finding his footing, looking back the way they had come.

Saljah climbed up beside him. "We came from a harbor town. We can find our way back from there." Emilia nodded quietly from her position, still flushed with a blush of shame that permeated through her cheeks. "...yeah, uh- Marshtide." Balthanax lifted a hand to his chin, pondering for a moment. "...that will work."

He turned and started marching on down the path, Saljah following. Balfaraz sighed, turning to Emilia who suddenly realized he had faded to the background. "...don't pay him much mind. He's bossy and controlling and does what he will, but he at least knows how to get results." He patted her shoulder.

"...I just, I...I had a purpose, and now it's changing...all in a couple of days, this is..." She blinked. "Is this an adventure?"

"Something like that," Balfaraz grumbled. "Come on." He offered a hand to the Basitin, and she hesitated for a moment before taking it as he helped her back up the dry, grassy slope.

"HEY! YOU TWO! HURRY UP! I'M NOT AFRAID TO LEAVE YOU BEHIND!"

* * *

(Picking up from ~1021~) Trace sat back in the manor, replaying the events from earlier that day in his head quietly. Flora curled quietly under his arm, letting out a content 'mrrow'. The wolves and the collection of his friends below, everything that had played forth- it seemed like something out of a damn fairy tale book, and it was continuing to play out.

But something felt different, oddly enough. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, as if in the last few days that something in the air had fouled and something in the winds had died. Either way, it wasn't a pressing concern of his at the moment, so he let it slide.

The two were sitting in a smaller room in the manor, lighting a light orange cast from the sunset beyond the windows as Trace sat with Flora curling close to him on his arm, snoozing quietly. He looked over her fondly, bright cyan hair momentarily drifting in front of his face before he puffed it out of his line of sight.

She was beautiful, he thought. Even sleeping, she took his breath, even after so long- it meant so much. This wonderful creature, who had only so much time left on this world, was choosing to follow him.

And he couldn't bear the excitement of children in the future.

He smirked and further coiled his arms around her, hugging the Tiger Keidran closer and leaning down to kiss her fuzzy forehead. She briefly opened her eyes to look up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her feline mouth.

"...hum." He grunted to herself, laying her form into his lap. Trace smiled, gently stroking her hair and cheek as he leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to rest.

Why did everything start to feel so off?

* * *

Keith's ears twitched irritatedly as he leaned back on the couch, listening to the wolf Keidran in the fading daylight. She paused mid-sentence, sniffing the air as an ear lifted from her head, tracking some unseen force.

The Basitin stood, approaching. "What? Sense something? Something out there?"

"...no, I...no, there is, but..." Natani's attention shifted furthermore towards the nearest window, setting their glass of water down on the table as the neared and pried it open to look outside. She took a deep, deep inhale of the air.

Something smelled like it was rotting and flaming simultaneously- faintly, but still. It was a disconcerting scent, and her mind drifted briefly to Zen- more importantly, the image of his singed leg. Shivering, she turned and made her way for the door, reaching forward.

Keith stood. "Something's up. Tell me." Natani looked back at the Basitin.

"...something...I'm worried something might be up with Zen." Keith raised his eyebrow for a minute before sighing. "...let him rest. See him tomorrow if you're truly that worried about him."  
"But-" "Let the poor man sleep, Natani, he's been through enough I'd say. Plus, all sorts of drugs. Nothing's getting in or out of Trace's barrier, nothing to worry about there- so let him rest. Don't be so paranoid."

Natani breathed gently, mulling it over.

"Alright."

As she sat down and Keith continued talking, she still couldn't shake that gut feeling that something- somewhere- was amiss.

* * *

Night fell as the group found the borders to the dock town once more, sighing. "Now if we can find that damned inn," Balfaraz grumbled.  
"Just -an- inn," Balthanax sighed. "Mortal bodies are so weird. You need to rest and sleep and GAAAAAAH."  
"Well, I'm sorry we don't have an automatically abundant reservoir of void magic waiting to restore us when we pull a muscle." "Apology accepted."  
Balfaraz gritted his teeth before continuing onwards, Balthanax blinking. "Was it something I said?" Sal and Emilia quietly facepalmed.

"They're going to get us killed." "Yeah."

* * *

The burly innkeeper watched the group of four enter, sighing. "You all looking for rooms?"  
"Yep."  
"We don't have the individual rooms available-"  
The Purple-Armored one turned on his heel. "Bupkis, I'm skidaddling."  
"-but we do have two rooms with two beds."  
He spun back around. "Nevermind, we'll take it. BALFARAZ! PAY THE FAT MAN!"

The wizard shuffled forward, sighing and rifling through a coin purse. "...he's...learning." "I can tell," he replied. "Head upstairs, bath keys'll be here if you need 'em." They nodded and headed up.

"So. I'm not going to share a room with that bastard because he's bound to screw up, even if bound to a damn bed and gagged," Balthanax said, glaring at Balfaraz. The mage snorted. "And I'm not going to share a room with you because I know you wouldn't hesitate to slit my damn throat."  
"OH, THAT'S I-" The two stopped, blinking, slowly looking over at the other two females.

They were headbutting each other and staring one another in the eye, growling and foaming at the mouth in a bitter rage. They didn't waste words communicating, just growling and spitting. The two humans looked at one another briefly.

""...neither are they.""

Sighing, Balfaraz grabbed Emilia while Balthanax took Saljah's arm, each tugging them away to the two rooms designated.

* * *

Balth sighed, chucking the Fox into the room and closing the door behind them. He sighed, rubbing his forehead as the creature behind him stood and huffed in a dignified manner.

He turned and looked at her. "You're high-and-mighty for someone who has half of a brain to start a damn fight in an inn hallway." "Bite me, pale-flesh." "Oh. Fiesty, still."

Saljah turned and sat on the bed, arms crossed and ears twitching. Balthanax walked up beside her and sat, blinking. "...so. Are you doing a thing where I'm supposed to build tension for a moment by staying quiet before asking you what's wrong and allowing you to go into this long winding explanation that will be sure to confuse and lead me into believing whatever side of the story you're telling before teaming me up with the others to figure out what's really going to happen?"

The Keidran blinked at him. "...what?"  
"Nothing. I just like to call out Cliches that I see coming." He's looking at you, Storyteller Korlith. ...wait, is this really what I'm writin-

Saljah rumbled. Balthanax closed his eyes and grunted, sitting on the bed across from her. "Explain, Foxfur. You two are at odds for a reason."

"...if I tell you, will...you tell me about you and Balfaraz? Why you are so against one another?"

"SURE, why not." He shrugged.

Saljah sighed before closing her eyes, huffing.

* * *

Once, there was a small Keidran settlement that lived in the distant shadow of a Garrison, on the coast. They were a quiet population- no one threatening or greatly 'intimidating', in the grand scheme of things. They were simply a village of people that were trying their best to survive the best way they knew how to.

Let's call this village 'Riverheart'.

It was a collection of tents and huts along with ornate wooden structures that curled into various uses- some, weapon racks with spears for hunting- others, totem poles and ornate carvings of various tales. They were a happy people, content with what they were doing- but strict as with how they chose one another.

For they had a choosing system, that would determine a kit's roll after they reached a certain age. This would result in the Keidran being sorted into three categories- Hunters, Warriors and Sages.

Hunters were the most common- the least gifted and the most ordinary. They were tasked with keeping the village supplied, and served as a generic labor force when times turned tough. They gathered items between food and wood, all that they could find that might benefit their village. They were also notoriously the better merchants when it came to dealing with the few human travelers who could gain entry.

The Warriors were your 'middle-class' people. They served simply as a military defense force- to lead strikes on those nearby that might have offended their small village, but mainly to serve as those in charge of defending their people. They lived a life seperate from the hunters and sages- seperated in their ways and culture, as the small village's rituals often revered the warriors as the most honorable characters at times. After all, magic can be overcome if one possesses will and enough fury, yes?

The Last and Highest class were the sages- also, the most rare. They often found themselves with some expertise of magical ability, or at least the ability to manipulate magical currents from the Mana stones and bend it to their will. They were taken away and taught in the ways of the sages- the healers and wisemen of the village. They would commune with spirits, and would specialize in a very unique talent that made them valuable- perhaps the entire reason why the village fell, even- in that they learned to make their own mana gems.

And the village lived in peace, for a while.

But eventually, for some reason- perhaps it was greed for their abilities, perhaps it was racism due to the rising times- they were suddenly faced with a force of human templars, accompanied by a small reserve of Basitin warriors there to serve as ambassadors in good faith.

They stormed Riverheart.

Hunters and Warriors did their best to fight, but fell at the ends of the enchanted silver blades. The sages called upon their practices to will the earth to swallow men and horses whole, and for flames to rain from the sky upon the invaders- but there was little they could do against an organized force such as the Templars. They were all overpowered, eventually- most of the survivors cast into slavery if not straight-out executed to make an example towards the remainders. But there were some who escaped into the wilds- few, remnants.

Saljah was pregnant at the time. She was resting inside one of the huts, her mate watching the door while protecting her- oddly enough, she was the warrior and he was a mere hunter, but it didn't matter. Their love was pure.

Emphasis on 'was'. Emilia saw to that, charging into the door and giving a bare whisper of 'I'm sorry' before lifting her gleaming greatsword, and carving him apart.

Saljah and Emilia locked eyes for a brief moment- Emilia's full of regret and pain, Saljah's full of sorrow and rage, a frenzied whirlpool of emotions.

Riverheart fell that day.

* * *

Emilia sighed, sitting back as she finished the tale. Balfaraz nodded slowly in thought, now out of his garnments and shirtless- as was his usual 'casual' wear. The Basitin's ears flicked about briefly in thought as she remnisced the tale. "...she blames me for something I did against my will, mage. Something I was forced to, or had the fate of my people threatened against instead. A decision I had to make because of what this world had become, because of..." she rubbed the side of her head. "...because of him."

"Who?"  
"Trace Legacy."

Balfaraz scratched at his chin for a moment.

"...stupid name." He stretched and stood, grunting. Emilia huffed and stood behind him from the bed. "Trace Legacy was- no, IS- a damned dictator, he's intent on the enslavement of Keidrans and the total control of Mekkan! He's not just some guy with a stupid name!" She grabbed his arm, trying to spin him around. "Liste-"

Balfaraz erupted into his worgen form in a split second, a crushing grip resting on Emilia's plated arm that only stopped short of breaking her wrist. She yowled in pain, tugging, and the mage let go. "...reflex. Sorry," he grumbled. Closing his eyes with a huff, the mage walked over and sat on the bed, staring out the window on the wall. Emilia sat beside the wolf-man, frowning in thought.

"...you know the story between me and Saljah," she quietly spoke. "...what is it that holds you and Balthanax so tight? That compells you to fight so much?" The worgen stared out the window in thought. "...that's going to take a lot of explaining. I'll save the tale for later- or for when it's necessary." Em slowly nodded, her ears folding to lay back on her head as she stood and approached her own bed.

"We should be sleeping." "Agreed, night." "Night." Balfaraz waved a clawed hand, and a gust of frigid wind puffed out the candles burning in the lamps.

...

He glanced over at her, blue eyes twinkling in the night.  
"Aren't you going to take off your armor to sleep?"  
"No." "Why?"  
"Modesty. It's ridiculous that those of different genders have to even sleep together as-is-"  
"Fuck Modesty, get comfortable. I'm a wolfman wizard, yeah, but it's not like I'm looking to cop a feel." "O-Oh! Vulgarity!"

He sighed. "For fuck's sake. Just take the damn armor off. It's nice to feel the linen and the pillows on your skin- or fur- instead of just sitting around inside of a tin-can, waiting to get incinerated by some bastard with a fireball." She paused for a moment before sighing, and the rustle of fabric was heard. Balf turned his lupine head to avoid her, to give her some privacy.

"Better?"  
"...kinda."

A grunting from next door caused them both to sigh before they focused on ignoring the world and delving into sleep.

* * *

Saljah fell back on the bed, grunting. Balthanax fell beside her, draping the covers over them both. Saljah huffed. "...you hold yourself...like a...warrior, haaah..."

Balth stared up at the ceiling, smirking. "I pride myself on it. You learn a thing or two if you know how to experiment right." He sighed, looking down at Saljah. "...you're good."

"Thanks." "Nice and ti-" "Ssht. Sleep."

Balthanax sighed and fell into a slumber, the two cuddling together and falling into a lover's slumber.

* * *

Breakfast that morning was tense. Balthanax and Saljah seemed chipper, and Emilia somewhat relaxed- but the tension between parties hadn't evaporated, not in the slightest. At most, it had risen.

The fox Keidran nudged Balthanax briefly, and he cleared his throat. "Right. So."

Emilia glanced up. Balfaraz took a piece of bacon and chewed it up, once more in his human form. "...so." Balthanax looked at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full." "I do what I want."

They all collectively sighed before looking towards Emilia. "So. We need to charter passage back to your isle- Basitin-Land or whatever." "The Basidian Islands, yes. We must make our way to the capital and present them with what we know, as well as a plea for aid." "Mhm. Also, are they prudes like you?" Balthanax's words rang cold as Emilia looked his way, blinking. "Oh, ah. Yes. It's...tradition. Order."

Balfaraz stared at his food blankly. The two both sides of him nudged his arms, and he grunted. "Oh? Basitin Capital, yeah. Sounds good."

"...there's something on your mind." "Something cold is at your heart." Balthanax's Forboding Line- hey. Stop cheating the script, Balth.

The mage shook his head. "Nothing. Let's get on our way. Today just feels, ah...a little off."

* * *

The spiraling capital tower of the humans had a darkened sludge creep down from it's windows, covering the spire in an obsidian-colored coating. The tower then stood erect as the sludge reached the ground, burrowing deeper and deeper.

Templars stepped forward, shards of violet magic lodged in their chests and necks, piercing through their throats and turning them into shambling conduits of energy. They lifted their hands to the falling slime, chanting.

 _Az'rul nar nar'al dir._

 _Shaal si'ruv, ruvno hak._

 _Dirad nol sivaz, syr-_

 _SYRAL'DU-KALL!_

 _ENTROPIOUS!_

Spiraling towers of dark metals erupted from the ground, reaching up towards the sky. Black lightning twirled in their coils, pressing deeper and deeper into the ground as they reached farther and farther towards the distant sky, the distant tower. At the top of the tower a small, twirling, vibrating orb of black and purple formed, black lightning emanating.

The grounds from around the kingdom's base would slowly die, the grass first turning yellow and cold before drifting into the color of ash. It slowly spread out, towards the rest of the land.

Entropious laughed, letting the ocular orb fade from his claws. He would be there, soon enough.

Soon enough.


End file.
